Remembering the birth day of my son –
I had to get that baby out of me.
His shoulders stuck, and I had only one
more pushing chance at good delivery.
That’s when the doctor looked into my eyes
and spoke: “Push through the pain” she said with force.
I heard, I did, and it was a surprise
that doing was much easier of course
than contemplating difficult essay.
(So hills look steeper till we come up near
and fear of future amplifies dismay.)
That obstetrician gave me two things dear:
a baby boy (my duty and delight),
and verbal amulets that vanquish fright.